The Spencer Estate
by often indecisive
Summary: Chris and Jill, in what was to be their final mission together.


The Spencer Estate

The noise of Jill's boots echoed off the stone-tiled floor and walls making the sound seem ominous as she walked through the empty corridor. She momentarily cursed her footwear; the damn noise would only serve in telling whatever monsters were lurking where she was.

Her finger was tight on the trigger of her gun, the corridor seeming to stretch as she walked. She didn't like it, filled with a strange sense of foreboding that made her shudder. Through the windows, the moonlight cast eerie and disfigured shadows on the floor beneath her, like twisted and tortured souls. The wind rattled, shaking the glass and Jill unconsciously sped up the hurry to the end door…that just seemed to be getting further and further away.

Her legs started to get heavy and she found it harder and harder to pick them up off the ground; a sudden smash of glass made her jump out of her skin. A Cerberus had leapt through one of the windows and was staring at her, rotten eyes hanging from its head. Its lips (what was left of them) peeled back and it snarled, blood-covered teeth bared.

Jill raised her gun at the beast and prepared to fire when another smash from behind her caused her to flinch. She turned, only to find two more Cerberus growling. She was boxed in.

The first creature suddenly lunged forward; Jill whipped around and squeezed the trigger - the gun clicked and nothing happened. It was empty. Horror seeped through Jill's body as she stood paralysed, the dog running forward to tear her to shreds…

Jill's eye snapped open as she bolted awake, taking in huge lungfulls of air. It took her mind a few moments to return from the dream world to reality and she felt relief flood her. It was just a dream. Her face wasn't going to be torn off by a rotting canine.

After a few moments she pushed herself up into a sitting position and untangled herself from her bed sheets, a thin film of sweat enveloping her. She rubbed her face and looked at the clock: 12.25am. It had been a long time since she'd had a dream like that. Especially one of the Mansion. Those dreams had been replaced with the horrors of Raccoon's destruction, and _those _dreams had been replaced by Russia. It was odd for her to be dreaming about her first encounter with the virus that would overtake her life again.

She slowly got out of bed and padded to her tiny bathroom to splash cold water on her face and hopefully rid the lingering feeling of dread that was still clinging to her from the dream. She dried her face and looked in the mirror; she was pale as ever, and there was a slight showing of bags under her eyes. Her chestnut coloured hair now reached to below her shoulders as she'd decided to grow it out after Raccoon, the short hair just another reminder of what she'd been through. And she'd thought it time for a change.

She sighed and her breath fogged up the mirror. She wondered when it would all be over; when she could just have a normal life again like before the Mansion incident and getting involved with the T-virus. But then, she mused grimly, even if every trace of the T, G and every other zombie-turning virus was eradicate from the earth, even if she migrated to Alaska, or another planet entirely, she'd never have a normal life again. She'd been touched by darkness, and that darkness ran deep.

She jumped when the shrill ringing of her house phone cut through the silence in her apartment. With a small curse at herself for being so jittery and letting the dream shake her up, she went back into her bedroom to answer the call.

"Hello?" she said into the receiver as she picked up the phone.

"Hey, Jill. It's Chris," came a familiar masculine voice. Jill felt a flood of warmth fill her and a smile came to her lips.

"Hi, Chris," she said softly, "what's up?"

"Something pretty important's come up. Need you down at HQ," Chris explained, "we think we found something on Ozwell Spencer."

Jill blinked in surprise. "Really? You found something?" It sounded almost impossible. Ozwell E. Spencer had seemed like smoke: impossible to catch. Neither Chris nor Jill or anyone else had been able to find anything on that man. This was pretty big news.

"Yeah. I could hardly believe it either," Chris said.

"Okay, I'll be there, uh…" Jill glanced at herself; she was clammy from sweating and needed a shower before she went anywhere at all, "in a little while."

"All right. Hey, sorry if I woke you." Chris apologised.

"It's okay…I was already awake," Jill said quietly, the image of the dog coming unbidden into her mind.

"Hey, you okay?" Chris' concerned voice came through the phone. He'd obviously picked something up in her voice.

"Yeah, just…" Jill hesitated, chewing her lip and debating whether or not to tell Chris about the dream.

"Just…?" Chris prompted.

"Just a bad dream, is all," Jill relented.

"Wanna talk about it?" Chris asked considerately. Suddenly, Jill felt silly. It was just a dream after all; both she and Chris had had plenty of those in the past ten years or so. She'd been dealing with them for what felt like forever, and here she was overreacting about one - even if it had for some reason made her feel strange. She'd had worse dreams, not to mention the fact that she was a grown woman.

"No thanks, don't worry about it. Only a dream after all," she said simply.

"…you sure?"

Another smile came to Jill's lips at his concern. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"'Kay. See you soon," he said.

"Bye, Chris." Jill hung up the phone and went back into the bathroom and turned on the shower, her mind moving at a mile a minute. What had they found on Spencer? Could it be a location? Or maybe…another virus? God, she hoped not. She'd had enough of the others as it was. Well, the only way she'd find out was to get to BSAA headquarters as soon as possible.

Shedding her now-sticky bedclothes, she stepped under the spray of the shower and closed her eyes as the water ran over her body. The hot water made her feel infinitely better and helped rid her of the last dregs of dream-disorientation.

She grabbed the bottle of strawberry scented shampoo and lathered a handful into her hair, her mind elsewhere whilst she performed the mandatory actions of showering. It _had _to be something vital discovered or Chris wouldn't have called her so late at night. Maybe…maybe they were finally going to get the answers they'd been searching for all these years.

Suitably washed, Jill turned off the nozzle and stepped out, grabbing a towel to quickly dry herself and secure around her waist. She walked back into her bedroom, shivering a little at the cold air, with the notion to look for something to wear. She wasn't sure what to put on: should she just throw on something casual or were she and Chris actually going to be heading some place?

Deep in thought she strolled to her wardrobe and opened it, deciding to go with pale cargo pants and a blue shirt. Leaving her hair to dry naturally and pulling it into a ponytail, she donned the clothes and tugged on a plain blue cap and black combat boots, just in case. Digging her belt, gun and holster out from under her bed, she clipped them around her waist and moved to her bedside drawer to take her cell phone and car keys out.

Leaving her bedroom untidy - she figured she'd fix it when she got back - she made her way through her small apartment and out the door, making sure it was completely locked before she went. Down the two flights of stone stairs through her cold apartment building, she pulled out her cell phone and sent Chris a text telling him she was on her way.

She got a reply just as she'd left the building and made it to her car: '_K. Will b waitin.'_

She was glad when she got into her vintage 1970 Ford Mustang - left to her by her late father - because the interior of the car was warm and the night air was quite chilly. Starting the car, the radio came on low volume, playing some sort of pop song Jill recognized from hearing in a clothes store not too long ago. Humming slightly, she backed her car out of its parking space and sped off.

New Raccoon City, or 'Neo Raccoon' as it was affectionately dubbed by those who lived there, was quite a sight during the night. In daytime, the place looked like an overcrowded concrete jungle, complete with the haze of pollution to boot. But at night the city transformed, multi coloured lights everywhere from different stores and advertisements. Jill had always liked the sight of the city at night.

New Raccoon had been built two years after the destruction of the original Raccoon City; at first, Jill, Chris and the others had been dubious about living there, the name of the city itself seeming like a curse to them, but eventually they had settled there - as settled as they could be with considering their jobs. Jill was actually quite fond of her apartment, small as it was.

When she reached the HQ of BSAA and drove to the entrance, she saw Chris waiting outside for her, sitting on one of the low walls that surrounded a small plantation of flowers. He waved as she drove passed to find a parking spot and she smiled. Trust Chris to _literally _be waiting for her.

She parked in the spot next to his beat up old Chevy and got out, Chris walking over to meet her halfway as she went to the BSAA entrance.

"Hey," he said with a roguish grin.

"Hey yourself," she matched his smile as he leaned down to wrap his muscular arms around her in a friendly and _very _warm hug. Even after all the years she had known Chris, her heart still thundered and her blood hummed in her veins at his proximity like that. She wondered if she'd ever tell him how she felt about him. Maybe one day.

"Usually have to wait longer for you to get yourself ready, Valentine," Chris commented lightly and Jill felt his chest rumble as he spoke. She pulled back and mock-glared at him.

"Just because some people like to _shower _before they go places," she replied pointedly, "and _not _smell like a caveman…"

"You wound me," Chris joked, then smelled himself. "I don't smell like a caveman, do I?"

Jill laughed. "No, Chris. You don't. I can assure you." She didn't tell him just how nice she actually thought he smelled. A mix of nice cologne and a musky scent that could only be described as Chris.

"Phew," Chris mocked wiping his brow in relief with a grin. Jill smiled.

"So, what's this you've found on Spencer then?" she asked, getting to business.

"Oh yeah," Chris became serious, "we've got a suspected address."

Jill blinked. "An…an actual location?"

Chris nodded. "Uh huh. Come on, I'll show you."

Jill followed Chris into Headquarters, mind buzzing. A location. They had an actual location. She could hardly believe this was happening. After years, they finally had some idea of where the infamous Ozwell E. Spencer was hiding.

Chris lead Jill into one of the debriefing rooms and shut the door behind them; at the head of the mahogany table sat a researcher from BSAA, Annie Archers. Both Chris and Jill were familiar with her, on friendly terms as she worked with them in their investigations of the T-Virus and all affiliates.

"Hey, Jill," she greeted, "got something you _really _wanna look at about our guy Spencer over here." She waved a file in the air. Jill moved to the head of the table to have a look.

"What've you got for me?"

"Okay, so me and my buddy down in Tech figured that because we've been drawing blanks on Spencer's location for so long we'd start digging somewhere else. I mean, this guy covered his tracks with some professional skill here, but I knew he just _had _to have slipped up somewhere." Annie was always straight to the point. It was what Jill liked about her. "So we decided that since he was so good at hiding and covering up, we'd dig through his cover-up companies.

"There were a lot of Shell-Companies that he bought into to slather protection over the resources he was buying, and while that didn't give us a location for any research labs, facilities, you know, it did give me an idea. I thought, maybe this guy isn't camping out in some lab that he's built six foot thick walls around it, and so me and my Tech buddy started looking through any property companies, you know. Obviously there were a lot of industrial things bought - in several countries, might I add - but none of them stood out."

Jill glanced over at Chris; he was listening to Annie with eager anticipation.

"But there was one thing, and you probably aren't going to believe it when I tell you."

Jill blinked. "I'm not?"

Annie shook her head. "Nope. I could have slapped myself when I first saw it."

"What is it?" Jill urged her to continue.

"Buried in with all the other thousands of legal documents where reserved land rights. Land rights for building on specifically. In the Arklay Mountains, not eight miles from where the mansion you and the other STARS members investigated all those years ago."

Jill gaped. "Are you kidding me?"

Annie shook her head. "'Fraid not. Told you you wouldn't believe me. But yeah, apparently another mansion was built just months after the Trevor mansion: this one called the 'Spencer Estate'. The documents were so old he probably forgot to protect them."

"How did no one find it? Or even notice it? When they were investigating the ruins of the Trevor mansion…surely they would have found something?" Jill couldn't fathom how no one even knew about this. All this time, the mansion was right within their reach. Quite the kick in the teeth.

"It was protected. Private land. No suits, law enforcement or pretty much anyone other than Spencer can set foot on the land the mansion's built on." Annie explained. "He really went all out on it. Anyone without permission goes there and they get a ton of lawsuits from a thousand companies bearing down on their heads."

Jill let out a long exhale of breath. "Slimy bastard…" Chris said, sounding a mix between distaste and slight awe.

"It gets better." Annie pulled out a sheet of paper from the file, "apparently Spencer paid somebody to seal his documents of build, so that no one in the business would get top suspicious as to why that particular area was getting tanked up, protection-wise. If he hadn't forgotten about the prints that were made when the house was finished, we might not have found it. I reckon it's your best bet if you're going to find this guy."

"He _really _didn't want anyone to find that place, huh?" Chris unnecessarily commented.

Jill frowned. "It doesn't add up, though. Why would he go to all that length to hide the documents and then forget about that one?"

Annie shrugged. "Well, considering the date on it, I guess he just…didn't realise. Most people back then didn't know that another set of files are printed once your work - house-wise - is finished. They thought the only paperwork involved was during the building stage, I suppose."

"What does it matter, anyway?" Chris said, "we got the document and found the place. That's what matters."

"I guess so…" Jill said absently. Something didn't quite add up with this.

"I suppose the two of you will be off now in a rush to find Spencer, not giving a shit about the lawsuits huh?" Annie said with a hint of amusement. "There's a prepped chopper that's not going anywhere. You could use that; we've got the coordinates of the place here."

Chris took the file off Annie. "Thanks, Annie. You've really helped, so much."

"Don't mention it. This is for the greater good, y'know." She said with a grin.

"Well, Jill?" Chris said, turning to the brunette, "do we go now? Tonight? We don't have to, of course. I mean, Spencer probably doesn't know we found out about the place, and it's still gonna be there tomorrow if you want a good night's sleep."

Jill looked at Chris and felt a huge rush of affection fill her chest. He was offering her a choice; she knew how desperately he wanted to get to that mansion straight away. It was etched into his very being, and all over his face. But he was letting her decide. And she knew that if she said she'd rather wait till the morning, he'd be okay with that.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep now," she said, "not when I know there are potential answers so close to our reach."

Chris smiled at her. "Great. Lets go."

The two of them left the debriefing room after Annie wished them good luck and headed to the helipad area to get to the chopper.

"I cant believe it," said Chris, "finally, we're going to find Spencer. Answers at last."

"Lets just hope Spencer's actually there. For all we know, anything could have happened to him," Jill replied critically. "I mean, it's been years. Lets just hope he's even alive."

Chris made a face. "Yeah, lets hope so. I'd hate to get there and find absolutely nothing…"

With that sobering thought, the two reached the chopper; pilot Jerry Euringer sat waiting for them in full gear.

"Redfield. Valentine." He greeted them, eyes lingering on Jill for a few seconds longer. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah." Chris pulled out the sheet at the back of the file full of co-ordinates and handed it to Jerry. "Right there."

Jill noticed a picture in the file and pulled it out; it was a satellite photo taken of the mansion. It looked eerily similar to the Trevor mansion. Jill shivered, instantly reminded of the dream she'd had earlier. She could almost hear the dogs growling.

"Hm…" Jerry looked over the co-ordinates, "wait, this is in the Arklay mountains right?"

"Yep," Chris replied. Jill stayed quiet.

"Now why the hell do you wanna go there?" Jerry demanded, looking at Chris as though he were crazy.

"Old business," Chris said simply and folded his arms over his chest.

Jerry looked between the two agents almost in disbelief. "Fine," he said eventually, "get in."

Chris clambered in as Jerry started the chopper, and grabbed Jill's hand to haul her inside. Gripping the bar on the seat, Jill sat close to Chris and he held her arm for support as the helicopter took off. The whirring blades of the chopper made talking almost impossible; Chris simply squeezed Jill's arm affectionately and smiled at her. She smiled back and squeezed his huge bicep in return of the gesture.

Watching the city as it blurred by below them, Jill's mind went through all the other times she'd been in a helicopter like this, heading to somewhere that had some sort of involvement with Umbrella. The first mansion, after Raccoon City's destruction, Russia…and each time, someone had died. She wondered if it would be the case this time. Looking over at Chris, who was staring at the world below, she felt a surge of fear fill her body. No. She couldn't lose Chris. Not now, after everything they had been through together. If something happened to Chris…she wasn't sure what she'd do.

The familiar foggy treetops started to come into view from beneath the helicopter and Jill was instantly taken back to that fateful night in 1998. By the look of things, so was Chris. As the chopper flew over the dense forest that had somehow managed to maintain life after all those years, Jill could make out the charred area where the Trevor mansion had self-destructed. There were no trees growing or vegetation and the surrounding trees that had survived the blast were still blackened and scorched, the ground included. Even after all those years, nothing had grown back. The place had died with the Trevor mansion, it seemed.

The chopper moved past the place quickly and Jill automatically started scanning the area for the second mansion. Not five miles away, Annie had said. As they moved closer to the co-ordinates given to them, Jill noticed something in the distance. She tugged on Chris' arm to get his attention and pointed it out.

"Is that it?" she managed to make out from Chris.

"I think so," she yelled back. The closer they got the more it looked like a mansion. But by the looks of things, it was precariously placed: from their birds' eye view, the house was placed on the edge of a steep-faced cliff.

"Who puts their house on the edge of a cliff?" Chris yelled to no one in particular.

"The same person who makes a virus that turns people and animals into mutant psychopaths," Jill said sardonically in reply. Chris just rolled his eyes.

The chopper landed a few yards away from the front of the mansion; Jill and Chris could just make it out through the trees.

"Are you really going in there?" Jerry asked both the agents dubiously.

"Yeah. We are. There're answers in there we've been looking for for a long time," Chris said shortly.

Jerry eyed the direction of the mansion warily. "Okay…do whatever you want. But I'm only giving you two hours before I get outta here…this place scares the shit outta me."

"Fair enough," Chris said. "Lets go, Jill." And he made through the trees to the mansion.

"Bye Jerry. Thanks for the ride," Jill said politely. Jerry just nodded and Jill hurried after Chris.

The forest seemed empty; there were no sounds of wildlife at all. No insects, birds, nothing. Not even a gust of wind blew around the place. It was unnaturally quiet, and also felt unnaturally cold.

Chris pulled his gun out of its holster as they reached the mansion grounds and Jill followed suit. The mansion was huge; bigger than the Trevor mansion at least. The building towered over the two of them, seeming ominous with its empty windows and darkness. The trees around it were bare and gnarled, casting shadows not dissimilar to the ones in Jill's dream on the ground and side of the house. That same sense of dread was starting to well up inside Jill again, the feeling she had when she'd woken up from the nightmare. She didn't like the look of the mansion at all.

"It looks even creepier than the last mansion…" Chris said quietly, as though a loud noise would stir the monsters the two of them were imagining to be hiding in the trees.

"Yeah…" Jill whispered, "really creepy."

Chris stealthily approached the double doors and tugged on them. "Shit, it's locked," he cursed.

"Good thing I brought this then," Jill said lightly and took a lock pick out of a pouch on her belt. Chris smiled.

"Ah, I get to see the Master of Unlocking at work," he said teasingly. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Better than just barrelling through the doors and alerting whatever the hell is in there to our presence," she said and knelt down to work on the lock.

"Touché, Jill. Touché."

The lock was tricky; there were separate mechanics that, grouped together, made it so that only a certain shaped key - a master key - would be able to unlock the door. It took a few minutes for her to crack the lock, Chris standing watch over her back, and she felt a small amount of satisfaction when she heard the click to indicate the door was unlocked.

"We're in," she said.

Chris cocked his gun. "In we go."

He carefully opened the door and scanned inside. "Empty." The two went in and the doors closed behind them with an ominous creak.

"Wow…snazzy," Chris said appreciatively as they stepped into the huge hall. The place looked as expensive as it actually was; if not more so. There were priceless china ornaments around, a fancy rug underneath their feet, chandeliers, doors veering off in all directions and a large staircase in front of them.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Jill said quietly, looking around.

"Yeah, unfortunately." Chris replied. He looked over at Jill and grabbed her free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You sure you want to do this?"

"Too late to turn back now," she said softly and smiled at him, squeezing his hand in return.

"Okay," he said. "Which way shall we go?"

"I think we should start with the upstairs first." Jill said, speaking from experience. "That's usually where all the nasty shit likes to congregate."

"Right. Upstairs." Chris nodded and the two of them started climbing the stairs, their footfalls making dull thuds on the crimson patterned carpet.

There was another chandelier on the second floor once they reached it, with a lot more doors and a huge painting of what looked like a gravestone. The layout was so similar - so far - to that of the Trevor mansion that Jill had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't back there, and that she had Chris by her side.

"God, so many doors," Chris moaned, "and I bet you most of them are locked."

"Well, there's only one way to find out," said Jill and she moved to the closest door, lock pick in hand. Jiggling the handle, she found the door was indeed locked tight. There was a small symbol of a crest embedded into the brass knob, just like the locking system in the Trevor mansion. She huffed out a breath. "I can try to unlock it I guess. No promises. If this is anything like the first mansion, the lock pick wont work. Only the right keys will."

"Great. Keys." Chris said unenthusiastically. "I hate keys."

Saying nothing, Jill knelt again and stuck the lock pick into the keyhole and hoped for the best. To her surprise, she could open the lock. "Huh. Guess we wont be needing any keys after all."

"It worked?" Chris was just as surprised as her.

"Yeah. C'mon."

Guns armed, the two of them forcefully pushed open the door and looked inside. There was a dusty looking hallway with greying carpet and broken windows, dried leaves on the ground along with a few boxes. Nothing out of the ordinary - meaning nothing rotting, no mutant creature lurking or crazed bird laying in wait.

Jill glanced at Chris. "There's nothing."

"Lets go. Keep your eyes wide open; we never know." He said and the two of them slowly and cautiously walked down the hallway, shoes crunching the leaves underfoot. The end of the hallway lead to a door that looked old and weathered, old boards nailed to it to cover up holes. Jill reached out and grabbed the handle; which consequently fell off.

"Wow…" she said simply. "Guess we aren't going through there."

"Step aside for a second," Chris said. Jill moved out of the way, and Chris leaned his full weight on the door nudging it as hard as he could with his shoulder without smashing it and making a shot load of noise. A click and a crack indicated that he'd broken the door and it swung open, wobbly and with a loud creak.

Jill raised her eyebrows. "Impressive. I didn't know that bulk of your could be used for anything other than total destruction."

Chris gave her a disapproving look. "I don't appreciate that."

Jill just grinned. "After you."

Chris rolled his eyes and went through the door. The room it lead into was what looked to be a guest room of some description. There was a bed - mussed and dirty-looking - a small table, a little fireplace and a desk with a large bookcase covering the majority of the back wall. There was crumbled black ash in the fireplace and a general smell of must and stale air filled Jill and Chris' nostrils.

"Just the place," Chris said with a grimace, gingerly moving the rotten covers with the end of his gun to check underneath, "I was thinking about relocating. What do you think, Jill?"

Jill let out a chuckle as she went over to investigate the bookcase. "Wonderful. Spacious, fresh…plenty of literary material for that bookworm in you."

"Now, now. I think you're making fun."

"Me? Never."

Looking over the books, Jill noticed that they were all about either ideology, the theory of biology or ethical beliefs in pre-modern society. Quite a deep collection of reading material, she thought briefly. But one book looked out of place. It was titled, '_Plagues: Mankind's past, present and future.'_ With a frown, she tried to take the book off the shelf; instead she found it only moved forward. There was an odd click and suddenly the entire bookcase started to move. Jill stepped back quickly and Chris came to her side as the bookcase shifted away from the wall, revealing a dark passage with steep stone steps.

"It's so cliché," Chris sighed. Jill laughed.

"Just a bit."

Chris took a torch from a pouch on his combat vest and turned it on; the small beam of light lit only a little ahead - the passage down the stairs was almost pitch black. The two of them carefully and slowly made their way down the staircase to wherever it lead; the walls were damp - as Jill discovered when she put her hands on them to use them as a guide - and it felt like the air was getting colder.

"This had better not lead back outside," she grumbled.

Suddenly, she bumped into the back of Chris and had to steady herself.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered.

"Hear what?" she asked.

"Listen."

She strained her ears to try to hear whatever it was Chris had picked up. After a few seconds, she heard it. A faint screeching sound, like something on metal, coming from somewhere. Judging by its volume, she guessed it was a considerable distance away.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"I have no idea," he replied. "Lets just keep moving."

The stairs led to a small alcove with a choice of two doors; one Jill was certain lead outside. The other, she wasn't so sure of.

"Which one should we go through?" she asked Chris. His face took on a thoughtful expression.

"I'm sure that big steel one leads outside. It's pointless just to go back out there again; lets go through the other one."

"Right."

Ignoring the heavily rusted steel door in front of them, the duo turned and opened the other thinner metal door which was thankfully unlocked. It led into what looked like the back of a large kitchen. There were metal tables with slabs of rotten meat on them, fridges and pressure ovens and stoves; pots and pans hung from shelves and cutlery littered the place.

"Why would somebody live in a place like this? Honestly," Jill muttered, wrinkling her nose. "Broken doors and windows, dirty rooms, rotten kitchen…"

Chris shrugged. "Maybe he's got nowhere else to go. Lucky break for us if he is here."

In silence, the two of them moved through the kitchen, being careful not to step on any silverware on the floor. Broken dishes were in sinks and on the ground, too.

Suddenly, a blur of something moved in the corner of Jill's eye. She whipped her gun around in its direction fast. "What was that?" she breathed.

"What?" Chris asked, on edge and gripping his gun tightly.

"I saw something move over there," she said, pointing to the area. There was nothing there. "I know I did."

A clang of metal behind them drew their attention; they snapped around fast, guns poised. There was nothing there either, but a ladle that was hanging from a hook was swinging madly like something had just brushed past it.

"Lets get outta here," Jill whispered, eyes darting around the place.

"Yeah," Chris agreed and, back to back with their guns raised, the two slowly made their way out of the kitchen. It brought them out into a small, empty corridor with a miniature flight of stairs in front of them. Climbing up, they walked into a long hallway with lots of doors.

"Lets just try the first one." Jill suggested and took hold of the handle and turned it. The door opened; the room behind it was dark.

Chris shone the torch into it and the beam of light fell on an old stool and bar, stacks of what looked like files piled up on it. Jill ventured inside first, the dark making it difficult to see. She felt along side the wall for a light switch. Clicking it, a very dim light cast a sickly yellow glow to the room. It was better than nothing.

Chris moved straight to the files. "There's gotta be something here," he mumbled and began leafing through. Jill went further into the room. There was a small table at the back end with empty alcohol bottles on the ground and a painting of a wine bottle on the wall behind. On the table were scattered papers and a chewed pen.

Looking through, Jill saw most of the papers were building plans for the house - scribbled lines and words over diagrams, some looking old and others relatively newer. Underneath, something caught her eye. A big piece of paper.

"Chris, there's a map of the whole house here," she said and, tucking her gun away in its holster, she picked it up off the table and examined it.

"There's nothing really over here," Chris told her, "just a whole bunch of stuff about the house itself and journals from when it was built."

Gingerly picking up the chewed pen and praying it worked, Jill circled a large room that was labelled, 'Spencer's Grand Room' and drew the route to it from their current location - which she assumed was the mini bar.

"Chris, the room next door to this has a door at the end that will take us out to an indoor balcony which leads to a small elevator, which according to this map will take us right up the Spencer's room." She said informatively.

Chris dropped the file he was looking through and came to peer over her shoulder at the map. "Lets go that way then." She nodded and, keeping hold of the map, the two of them left the bar and went back outside into the long hallway.

"The next door you said?" Chris asked. Jill nodded.

"Yeah." The next door was a mouldy colour and had an odd pattern carved into it. Jill tried it. It was locked. Pulling out the lock pick again, she dug at the keyhole until the door clicked and opened.

"Wow. You really _are _the master of unlocking," Chris commented, impressed as he walked through the door. Jill followed.

"You sound so surprised," she said lightly with a smile.

Chris just shrugged. The door lead them to the indoor balcony of sorts that Jill described; only it was a lot more unstable than they originally thought. The floor was dusty and the floorboards looked broken in places, the banisters that decorated the edges of the walkway looked rotten and falling to pieces. chandelier on the ceiling was hanging precariously and each step Jill and Chris took creaked loudly. The door to the elevator was right at the end.

"I really don't trust this…" Jill said warily, walking slowly, "I feel like it's going to break underneath me."

"If it's going to break underneath anyone, it's going to be _me,_" Chris stated. "I'm a lot heavier than you are."

"That's true," Jill agreed, a little too quickly.

"Hey, muscle's heavy y'know. Heavier than fat," Chris said matter-of-factly.

"Sure, Chris. Sure," Jill laughed. The floorboards suddenly gave a huge groan, and the next thing Jill knew they had snapped underneath her and she was plummeting. Wood crashed to the floor below.

Her arm automatically stuck out to grab the broken wood to hold onto; splinters dug painfully into her palm.

"Shit! Chris, help!" she called frantically. The drop below her was considerable; a dining table was in the middle of the room below and if she fell, she'd either be killed or seriously hurt.

"Jill! Hold on!" he yelled and tossed his gun aside and knelt down to reach through the hole to grab Jill's forearms. "Just hold on, I'll pull you up."

With the combined strength of the two of them, Jill managed to heave herself up and back onto the balcony and fell back into Chris' chest, breathing heavily. Chris automatically wrapped his arms around her and the two stayed like that for a moment to get their bearings.

"That was close…" Chris breathed, "are you okay, Jill?"

"Yeah…I'm fine," she said, chest heaving. "Thanks for saving me."

"Any time," he replied. His arms tightened slightly around her waist. "Thought I was gonna lose you then."

Jill felt inexplicably warm. She was aware of the job they had to do, looking for Spencer, the fact that the balcony obviously wasn't safe and could break again and that there could be anything lurking in the mansion for all they knew, but right then it all seemed inconsequential. Chris holding her like that brought out the best feeling in her, and she didn't want him to ever let go.

"We should keep moving," Chris said, though he made no effort to get up or let go of Jill.

"We should," Jill replied, but she didn't move either. She turned her head slightly to face Chris and was caught in the most intense gaze; his chocolate brown eyes locked with her icy blue ones and it was as though she felt some sort of magnetic pull toward him for she found herself leaning in to him. His breath was warm on her face, her lips as he came closer, and by God she knew they shouldn't be doing what they were obviously about to do, as Chris angled his head so their noses wouldn't bump, but right then she didn't care because she'd wanted this for so long, and…

The two jumped suddenly when they heard a huge crack of wood and plaster. Stemming from the hole Jill had fallen through, a huge fissure-like crack was running up the wall and through the ceiling. Chris and Jill could only watch in horror as it crossed to the chandelier, which had already been unstable and it came loose, falling from the ceiling to the floor below, a mighty crash sounding as it shattered. The duo flinched; you could have probably heard that from the other side of the mansion.

Holding their breath, they waited in silence for any repercussions. Seconds passed and nothing happened.

"Phew. That was lucky. Doesn't seem like anything heard us." Chris spoke a moment too soon, for just as he'd finished his sentence an inhuman screech was heard in the not-too-far distance.

"You were saying?" Jill said sarcastically.

"Shit," Chris cursed and hauled himself to his feet, bringing Jill up with him. "Now we _really _have to move." And he picked up his gun and headed for the door. Jill followed carefully, berating herself for being more concerned about the almost-kiss she had nearly shared with Chris, rather than whatever beast had discovered them.

Chris opened the door ahead, its rusty hinges creaking, and he stuck his gun through first and then peered out. "Clear," he called sharply, "I can see the elevator."

Stealthily the two moved out into the narrow corridor; to their left was the elevator and down the short hall to their right was another door. Heading to the elevator, Chris in front, Jill behind, Chris stopped and cursed. "I don't believe it."

"What is it?" Jill queried and moved to his side to see.

"We have to use that rusty old crank there to get the elevator down." Chris told her, impatience in his tone. "Jesus…what is it with this guy and cranks?"

"He must be a very cranky man," Jill giggled.

"Jill," Chris groaned as he picked up the crank and slotted it into the hexagonal shaped hole on the wall next to the elevator doors, "that was terrible, even for you."

"I know," she laughed and got her gun out, facing away from Chris to cover the door in case whatever nasty had been awoken by the crash of the chandelier found them before they got in the lift.

Her hands tightened on her weapon when she heard the screeching again. It sounded closer this time.

"Uh, Chris? You might want to speed that up a bit," she offered weakly.

"This thing's so rusty it's hard to turn," Chris grunted, "just give me a minute."

The elevator started to squeak loudly - a piercing sound - as it came down. The inhuman screeching was heard again. Very close now.

"Just a little more," Chris said stiffly.

Jill started when there was a crash at the door at the end of the hall. "Shit," she muttered. Something was clawing through the wood. "Chris…"

"It's almost down," he groaned and heaved his effort into the crank. The door splintered and flew off the hinges, a rabid looking Hunter bursting through.

Quick as lightning, Jill began firing at the beast as it sprinted towards her; a shot in the leg, one in the chest and a final shot between the eyes felled it. But there was more than one. Two more pushed through the broken doorway.

"God, where the fuck did they come from?" Jill exclaimed, shooting at the creatures.

"Jill, c'mon! Elevator's here!" Chris said and tugged Jill into the compact box when the cage doors opened. Slamming them closed, Chris jammed his finger on a large, rusted button and started shooting at the Hunters that were trying to claw at them through the gaps in the metal. The elevator groaned and jolted, steadily moving upwards whilst the duo fought against the Hunters. One of the demons screeched ear piercingly as its claws were jammed underneath the elevator as it rose. In one fluid, crunching motion they were snapped off, blood coating the elevator floor.

Jill stared at the severed claws on the ground. "Rather him than me."

"There are Hunters here. What do you think our chances are that Spencer's still alive?" Chris asked, mostly rhetorically.

Jill reloaded her gun as the elevator made its slow ascension upwards. "I honestly don't know. He must have some sort of fail-safe protection…y'know, if he _is _still here." Jill knew she'd be pissed if he wasn't.

"Hope so," Chris said and silence fell upon the two. Jill glanced at Chris from the corner of her eye, his proximity allowing her to feel his body heat. Her mind returned to the almost-kiss, that would have been a real kiss had the ceiling not decided to break. Jill knew it wasn't the time to be thinking about it - she'd do that later - and resolved that she would make sure that whatever it was between her and Chris, whatever that moment had been, she didn't let it slip away when this was over.

The elevator doors groaned open and Jill and Chris were met with the sight of yet another long hallway, this one wider than any other they'd seen so far. Extinguished torches lined each side and Chris had to use his torch for them to see forward.

Carefully minding the claws on the floor, the two stepped out of the elevator and began to walk down the hall. A sudden boom of thunder shook the windows and a flash of lightning illuminated the whole hallway. Jill caught glimpses of disfigured looking photos of some sort of being. Horrifically, they looked like they were once people.

"What the fuck are those…?" Chris whispered, shining his torch on one particularly gruesome picture.

Jill grimaced. "I think that was a woman once."

No more needed to be said. Foregoing the rest of the pictures, which the two were sure were only worse, they headed to the end of the hall. Large, thick double doors were the entrance to Spencer's room, steel enforced. That familiar feeling of dread came over Jill again however when they noticed the doors were open.

With a wary glance between them, Chris pushed the doors open enough so they could go in, gun raised. Jill followed suit. At first glance, the room appeared to be empty, but upon inspection, the light from the huge window at the far end of the room outlined what looked like a body on the ground a few feet from them.

Moving further into the room, Chris and Jill both sucked in breaths when the corpse was identified; it was Spencer. Blood was leaking from a hole in his chest and he was positioned stiffly over a few steps that lead to the window, a wheelchair laying next to him.

"Fuck…" Chris hissed. Jill's heart sank, but the rhythm sped up suddenly when, after another flash of lightning, she saw a figure in the corner of her vision. Raising her gun, she stared at the back of something. Or someone.

Chris, seeing her movements, did the same. The figure, almost like it sensed them noticing it, turned around.

Jill's breath caught in her throat. Wesker.

"Wesker?" Chris said sharply.

"Ah, Christopher. Jillian. How nice to see the both of you again," came the smooth voice they recognized. It sent chills down Jill's spine.

"What the hell…" Jill whispered, almost in disbelief.

"I see you've met Mr. Spencer over there. It's a shame you didn't arrive a little earlier, you might have been able to have been acquainted with his live self. Oh, well. No use crying over spilt blood." Wesker said almost amicably, as though he weren't talking about someone's death.

"_You _killed him?" Chris said

"Very good. Yes, I killed him. I'm afraid he…had come to the end of his usefulness. He was a thorn in my side I needed to get rid of."

"So you just killed him? Like that? With no thought about the value of his life?" Jill asked in outrage. Wesker laughed.

"Value of his life? This is the man who created and funded the T-virus, responsible for killing thousands and mutating more." he barked, "really, Jill."

Jill scowled at her ex captain.

"You could say I was doing the world a favour. A bit of a late one, but a favour nonetheless."

"The only favour to the world you could do, _Wesker_, would be to throw yourself off a cliff." Chris spat.

"Now, now, Chris, no need to get nasty," Wesker taunted and waggled a finger, "after I gave you such a thoughtful gift, as well."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Chris demanded. Wesker chuckled. Jill didn't like it.

"Tell me, the two of you. How exactly did you find this place, buried in the mountains as it is? Protected so greatly by thousands of companies and lawsuits?"

Jill glanced at Chris; his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at Wesker. "None of your business." He bit out.

"Oh, but I believe it is. Do you think it coincidence that we are here on the same day? Hm? That I would be here, _waiting _for you to arrive? No. It is not coincidence at all."

"The document…" Jill breathed. "You leaked it…didn't you?" She realised with startling clarity. She knew there was something off about it.

Wesker clapped his hands. "Bravo, Jill. _Bravo._ Very good. Yes, I leaked the document. I knew that the both of you wouldn't be able to resist coming here the minute you found out about the place. I lured you here, so that I could take care of all of my problems in one sitting. Much easier, don't you think?"

"Yeah, for _us_," Chris grunted and fired a shot at Wesker…who to their utter surprise dodged it with ease.

"Ah, the game begins," Wesker taunted and both Jill and Chris began unleashing bullets at their old nemesis.

He darted through the air like he was a part of it, disappearing and reappearing to dodge their fire. He slammed into Chris first, knocking the gun out of his hands and sending him flying backwards.

"Chris!" Jill yelled and pressed the trigger of her gun faster. Wesker suddenly appeared in front of her, and in one swoop had her dangling in the air, squeezing her throat. She choked as his unnatural strength crushed her windpipe and cut off her air supply; she dropped her gun and feebly tried to fend him off to no avail. Just as her vision was starting to go spotty, Chris reappeared with a punch to Wesker's face; he dropped Jill and backed off.

Jill fell to the ground, gasping for air and scrambling to pick up her gun whilst Chris tried valiantly to spar with Wesker. He threw punches and kicks Wesker's way, but all were blocked as Wesker retaliated with double the power.

Jill fired again at Wesker as Chris' roundhouse kick was blocked; Wesker dodged the bullets yet again and Chris was on him in the speed of light, punching and shooting. Grabbing the knife from her pocket, Jill swiped at Wesker as he pushed Chris away.

Wesker flipped out of the way of her knife and rammed his fist into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her flying back and crashing into one of the many bookcases that lined the wall. Her legs felt weak as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest burned and she watched in horror as Wesker threw Chris around like a rag doll. He punched at Chris and picked him up by the collar, slamming him into a wooden desk and dragging him along, tossing him over to the huge window that overlooked the cliff face.

Wesker strode up to Chris, who was still trying to catch his breath, and picked him up by the throat. Chris choked and struggled but he couldn't break free, and Jill knew in that instant that if she didn't do something, Chris was going to die.

_No._

The defiance, horror and rage filled her body, overpowering her and taking control of her senses. NO. Chris was _not _going to die tonight. Not if she could prevent it. That bastard Wesker would not take Chris' life. She wasn't even in control of her actions any longer; before she even knew it she'd risen to her feet and was charging at Wesker with a vengeance.

"Lets finish this," she heard Wesker say as he raised his hand to deliver the killing blow.

With a primal scream of rage, Jill slammed into Wesker, using all her weight and momentum gained from running at him. Caught off guard, he catapulted forward and the two of them smashed out of the window from the force, plummeting over the mountain face.

Jill kept her arms tight around Wesker as they fell, the insane notion that if she let go, he'd escape. She wasn't going to let that happen. If she was going to die, so was he.

She thought she could hear Chris' voice yelling her name over the rushing wind; dying wasn't so bad if she got to hear Chris for the last time. She thought, oddly enough, that if she had known this was going to be her final day on Earth, she'd have done more things. Like tidy her apartment a bit more. Or worn some better clothes. Or…or told Chris how she felt about him.

But now…he'd never know. But she wouldn't have wanted to die any other way: saving the man she loved and taking out the most stubborn and evil bastard she'd ever known. Maybe she'd even have some sort of legacy left behind. If she was lucky.

With her final thought closing in on Chris' face and the way his arms felt around her, she shut her eyes and braced herself for death…

…and came to in a groggy wave of blinding pain. Wow…was death supposed to hurt this much? It felt like every bone in her body was broken. And on fire. Her head felt like it was split in half and her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Was she in hell?

Slowly, ever so slowly, she risked opening her eyes. The light felt like she'd poured acid onto her eyeballs and it had seeped into her skull; on reflex she shut them again, trying to focus on making the pain go away.

It faded a little eventually but Jill realised it wasn't going to go entirely, so she might as well open her eyes and see where she was. Her vision was blurry, and she had to blink many times before she even got some semblance of clarity. White. She could see a lot of white. And hear a beeping sound, echoing somewhere in the distance.

Experimentally, she tried to move her arms…and found that she couldn't. Nor her legs. Was she paralyzed? Her heart picked up in speed and she started to panic. She was paralyzed…the last thing she remembered before she blacked out was jumping out that window…and if she was paralyzed but still awake then she wasn't dead. But…could a person feel pain if they were paralyzed? She didn't know. She didn't know where she was. What about Chris? Where was he? Was he okay?

Her mind froze when she heard a low chuckle. "You're awake I see."

No. No way.

Wesker's face suddenly came looming into her vision; even blurry, she recognized him. She felt her blood turn to ice. No…this wasn't happening.

"That was quite impressive, that little stunt you pulled," Wesker said, almost appraisingly. Jill felt sick. "I forgot to mention before, however. I'm pretty resilient to heights. You aren't. But don't worry. Myself and my research scientists are fixing you up nicely and you'll be back to full health in no time."

Jill opened her mouth to try to speak, to curse Wesker to oblivion, but she couldn't even do that.

"I wouldn't bother trying to move. Or speak. Or do anything. I'm testing a new drug called P-30, which gives me total control of the recipient. So, unless I want you to move, you stay still."

Jill tried valiantly to struggle, to move a single part of her body, even twitch a toe. Nothing happened.

"Like I said, you don't move unless I want you to. I wouldn't struggle too hard if I were you, you might give yourself an aneurism. We don't want all the doctors' hard work fixing you up going to waste now, do we?"

Jill couldn't even give Wesker a filthy look. Hot tears came to her eyes; at least she had control of her tear ducts. Suddenly there was a different beeping sound - it took a minute to realise it was Wesker's watch.

"Ah," he said, "I have something I need to attend to for now. But don't fret, Jillian, for you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other. That, I can promise you." And Jill could barely see the blurry outline of him as he just walked away from her, leaving her presumably alone.

Jill's silent screams were heard by no one as she descended into the black abyss that was hell.

END


End file.
